


Weaknesses

by OnlyOneWoman



Series: A Simple Man [15]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Era, Canon has more or less committed suicide by now and I regret nothing, Caretaking, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Family of Choice, Friendship, Fucking pirates man I swear, Healing, I never promised consistancy, Idiots in Love, Love, Lowbones, M/M, Mary Read POV, Matelotage, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, Permanent Injury, Pirate Husbands, Pirates are bad with feelings, Silverdoon, Sorry Not Sorry, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Wounds, angry lovers, at all, because I keep ruining them, they're ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21571225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: Mary and Silver POV time again because, well, they have things to say - or think. Silver is forced to feel shit, Mary gets to know more of Nassau, her Captain is still bedridden and Billy, well, he's a like a big, sweet dog and Mary's picture of pirates just don't fit anymore.I was asked to bring in Joji and Flint POV in the story as well, but I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, RaptorSquad22, because I simply find it too hard to keep the story in line if I add too many characters. I hope some Read and Silver will help <3And as always, I raise my cup of rum to you, E_A_Phoenix. May the wind be prosperous to your amazing ships! <3<3<3
Relationships: Billy Bones/Edward "Ned" Low, Edward "Ned" Low & Mary Read, John Silver & Mary Read, Muldoon/John Silver
Series: A Simple Man [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1530410
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Weaknesses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rising_Phoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rising_Phoenix/gifts).



**Mary Read**  
“You need to clean it better.”  
“Thank you for your concern, Read.”  
“I mean it.”  
  
John Silver is one hell of a stubborn man. Come thinking of it, most of the men Mary has been introduced to since Captain Low rescued her, are of the stubborn kind. Not singleminded, really, but fucking useless when it comes to tend to themselves. Perhaps that’s just how men are, though. Billy Bones and his meticulous way of caring for Captain Low must be an exception. And Dr. Howell, of course.  
  
Mary stands a little bit behind and beside Mr. Silver, looking at the harbor just as he does. There’s been news of a man picked up from a prize, claiming to be part of Flint’s crew and Mary found out while she was buying bread this morning. She has a position now, it’s somewhat unclear, but she trusts Billy Bones with her Captain, the man clearly cares for him and while Mr. Silver isn’t the kind of man to ask for help, he offered Mary a place as, well, his little helper, most likely. It’s the best she could hope for.  
  
She has a hammock next to his bunk, a little chest for her meager belongings and a new Captain who seems utterly neutral about her presence. Captain Flint gives Mary cold chills in a whole other way than Captain Low does. There’s something calculating about him and the few days since he accepted her into the crew, Mary has been careful to remain by Mr. Silver’s side. No one has made any attempts to threaten her – yet – and the nights in the swinging hammock have been absent of unwanted hands. She doesn’t know anyone else in the crew, but what she’s seen of Dr. Howell, the man who’re treating her Captain, and the sailingmaster, DeGroot, at least gives her a little ease.  
  
They both know, clearly, that she’s not a boy, but they treat her like she is without putting her to the test or teasing her. No unwelcome touches, no suspicious glares and she gets the same rasions as the rest of the crew. Still, she sleeps with her two new daggers loose in the sheets. One can’t be too careful.  
  
It’s not midday yet, but the sun is hot and the quartermaster’s brow has a shine of sweat. He’s not using a hat, which he should, and he’s squinting his eyes in the sunlight, onto the glittering waves.  
  
“Shouldn’t we go to the harbor instead, Mr. Silver?”  
“You should, not me.”  
  
He’s leaning on the crutch some and is clearly in pain. He’s not tending enough to the stump and wont let anyone help him. Muldoon, the missing man, apparantly is the only one aside from Dr. Howell who can. Mary can understand that. The doc who’s helped her Captain has also helped her some. Bleeding between your legs when you don’t have your monthly, is not a good sign, and away from prying eyes in the Captain’s quarters and with Mr. Silver keeping watch, Dr. Howell had a look.  
  
He had more gentle hands than Mary had expected and clearly knew enough about women to know what he was doing. It turned out to be a minor tear, nothing serious, but she needed to be more careful when climbing the rigging, not stressing it unnecessarily.  
  
_You should get some more linen while we’re in Nassau._ _We’re not exactly equipped for monthlies onboard._ _And keep your breeches stuffed and if you want to fuck while at shore, make sure you don’t end up with child._  
  
That was it and Mary can’t help but wondering if this is too much luck at once. The crew members are testing her, of course. There’s endless teasing, she gets to do a lot of the most unwanted chores and she’s gotten a pretty henious haircut as a sort of celebration of the first kill in battle. It wasn’t much to talk about, really. The prize they’d taken was an easy one and all Mary did was to shoot a careless sailor in the head when he attempted to attack DeGroot.  
  
For some reason, Mr. Silver didn’t go through the haircutting ritual. He’s not been with the crew for very long, yet he’s the quartermaster, everyone listens to him and his dark curls are well below his shoulders. He’s a stranger still, Mary thinks, and it seems like the crew accepts that.  
  
He’s using his crutch at least, even if he clearly hates it, meaning he’s not all deaf to good advice. And he’s right about going to the harbor. It would stress his legs, both of them. Mary can’t help but feeling restless with his silence and the waiting this far away from shore. _The Ranger_ is anchored and has been for a few hours already, the yowls coming to shore, one after the other. If Captain Vane really did find Muldoon, did he let him live? Mary has only met Charles Vane twice and while he helped Billy – for some reason – with rescuing Captain Low, he’s also one of the most notorious pirates known to the world. The stories about his brutality are almost as many as those of Flint and Captain Low.  
  
If there’s one thing Mary has learned since ending up in Nassau, it’s that the stories have lives of their own, mostly very different from the men they’ve sprung from.  
  
**John Silver**  
The exhaustion is worse than the pain today. John knows how to stuff impractical feelings away, to clear the path for useful thoughts and endeavors instead of getting trapped in mazes of the heart and mind. The girl disguised as a boy has been of more help with that than she’ll ever know. There’s an innocence about her, not of the unwordly or fragile kind, but something… well, pure. She’s not one for schemes. She’s observant and clearly tries to figure John out, but not in Flint’s cold way or Billy’s frustrated one.  
  
Read simply wants to stay alive and free, to be strong and keep her secret and why shouldn’t she be allowed to do that? The girl isn’t a person who seeks advantage for the sake of itself and she’s kindhearted. Perhaps that’s why her company has been a comfort to John these days. A strange form a bonding, almost a friendship, coming out of necessety and survival instinct, and it’s oddly nice. Women, John suspects, knows a lot more about appearing weak and being overlooked merely for their sex, forced to prove themselves in different ways than men to gain a sliver of freedom.

If anyone deserves it, it’s Mary Read.  
  
“Mr. Silver, look!”  
  
Her yell is too loud and John startles.  
  
“Jesus, girl, calm down. You’re spotting British soldiers, or what?”  
“No, you idiot, it’s _Vane_! Captain Vane and some other men with…”  
  
But he doesn’t hear her. John just stares at the four figures approaching. Vane’s long coat and Bonny’s hat are as easy to reckognize here as were they landmarks, just as the bright calico patterns Rackham completes the trio with. The fourth one, how ever, is the reason John is forgetting about his damn leg, his pride and appearance and just limps as fast as the knobbly ground and his good leg allow him.  
  
The fourth figure is shoving his rescuers aside, stumbling worse than John and when hard hands grab his shoulders and they clash, all John can do is listening to the stream of whispered insults and stuttering anger, pull in the scent of unwashed skin and rags and feel the heartbeats’ furious rhythm against his chest, not knowing who they belong to.  
  
His famous silver tounge is mute now, he has no words left to share, none that would say anything more of importance than his body already does. Hands are cradling his head, fingers entangling his hair and chapped lips finding his own, not for a deep kiss, just a hard, bruising one, breathing the air of his matelot again and there’s a _you shit, you asshole, I’ll never forgive this goddamn crew, it’s bloody cursed, you hear that, you piece of shit_ and around there is when Muldoon just starts repeating himself and John has never heard anything sweeter than those hoarse insults.  
  
They tumble down in the grass and sand, too careless and there’s no heat, just John’s damn leg that can’t support them both even with the crutch and John forgets about the audience, about the weakness he shouldn’t show and how it gets hold of him to the point where he just can’t stand upright. Muldoon is yelling at him all the way down in the sand and John just leans against his forehead, robbed of all his usual comments because Muldoon’s incoherent rage is the song of John’s heart and all he can do is to listen.  
  
**Mary Read**  
“Tha’ ye, Read?”  
“Can I come in, Captain?”  
“Not yer Captain, lass, but ye can come in.”  
  
Captain Low seems better and Mary comes closer to the bed and pulls the chair Billy Bones usually sits to the head end. She sits down, legs wide as she had to get used to at first, but now feels like a natural pose. The Captain has a clean, loose shirt and breeches on and the blanket tucked around his knees. Mary doesn’t think he did that on his own.  
  
“Can you remove the blindfold today, Captain?”  
He does it without further talking and gives his old, wicked grin at Mary’s little startle.  
  
“Aye, I’m quite a beauty, aren’t I, lass?”  
“You aint ugly, Captain. Just injured.”  
  
He chuckles at that and it sounds less feral, less cold than she remembers. Then he squints, makes a grimaze and puts the strap of fabrics back.  
  
“A wee bit early, I guess. Wha’ can I do for ye, Read?”  
“Uhm… I just wanted to see how you’re doing, Captain.”  
“Better than I deserve, surely. Ye’re treated well in yer new crew, aye?”  
“I am, yes. Took my first prize with them too.”  
“Aye?”  
  
Captain Low sounds interested and Mary smiles.  
  
“Shot a dumbass point blank. A single shot, right in his head.”  
“My, my…. Tha’s not bad, Read. Not bad at all for a wee lad.”  
“Still a girl, Captain.”  
“Girl, boy, siren, whatever.”  
“Got a sort of welcome haircut too.”  
  
She takes the Captain’s hand and puts it to her stubbled head and he chuckles.  
  
“Tha’s a haircut no lass would have freely.”  
“It’s actually pretty practical, Captain.”  
“True. Any injuries?”  
“Few cuts and bruises. Nothing serious and I nailed one of’em to the deck with my dagger right through his hand. Then I shot him.”  
“Tha’s my wee murderer. Good to know ye have a place, lass.”  
  
Yes, it’s good. Flint is still scaring her with his dark silence and DeGroot is constantly pointing out everything she’s doing wrong, Mr. Silver is distracted and the only man she trusts in the crew besides him and Billy Bones, is the doc who’s more or less constantly occupied with one injury or the other. It’s rarely a good idea to accompany him while treating one of the men, but at least he has a friendly smile for her.  
  
But she misses Captain Low, misses having someone talking to her with a smirk. Or maybe just someone knowing her secret who doesn’t care about it. He calls her _lass_ , but not in a demeaning way. He knows what she’s made of and he respects her, well, more than he respects people in general – apart from Billy Bones, of course.  
  
It’s still strange to see them together, the Captain and the first mate. The way they act with each other, how Mr. Bones’ voice gets softer, his gestures slower and more gentle. How he looks at the Captain with a sort of awe that often has Mary turn away, feeling like she’s intruding. It reminds of what she saw in John Silver’s eyes today, when he saw his matelot. It’s not a thing she’s used to see in men, not women either, but especially not men and the last kind of them she’d expected to show – or feel such things – were pirates.  
  
This new world that Nassau is, isn’t new primarly for the pirate society, or even t’s strange laws – and lack there of – but for how the brutality and beast like manners Mary expected to find, isn’t there nearly as much as there’s friendship, freedom and love. Sometimes in the most unusual and elsewhere frowned upon ways, but she’s already had a small taste of it herself and while it didn’t go as intended due to her wounds, it didn’t leave her repulsed. Far from it.  
  
Seeing how Mr. Bones looks at her Captain, how Mr. Silver stumbled across the sand on his peg and crutch to reach the no longer lost man Muldoon, seems, to Mary at least, just like love.  
  
**John Silver**  
The fingers in his hair aren’t as hard as he remembers and he should probably feel ashamed for what he’s doing, but he can’t make himself stop. Their roles should be reversed, but it’s John who’s laying with his face buried in Muldoons lap, crying like there’s no tomorrow. For the past weeks , since his matelot went missing, there hasn’t been one.  
  
“You shit…”  
  
Muldoon’s voice is soft, as are his hands cardening through John’s hair.  
  
“Fell overboard, you know, but I clang onto some damn splinters from the ship, can you believe that mad luck?”  
  
No. No, he really can’t. That’s why he’s crying.  
  
“Was hanging on to that wreck the whole night… Thought the sharks would come for sure, I mean, there were bodies in the water and all, but the didn’t see me. And then, I got picked up by a trading ship and was thinking, they’ll see what I am and just hang me, but I guess you’re not the only one who can charm your way into a crew…”  
  
John laughs at that remark, tears still falling and Muldoon smells like he’s been to hell and back but John doesn’t care. He can’t find words, can’t even look at him now, because it’s already too much and Muldoon lets out a humming sound.  
  
“They believed I’d been on that merchant ship we raided, _Beatrice_ , and so they took care of me and all I could think of was if they’d bring my sorry ass all the way to England and how I just can’t fucking stand the cold… Well, wherever they were thinking of going, Vane got to them first and of course the idiots wanted to be fucking brave and stand with honor and bla-bla-bla… So when Vane’s men came down to the galley where I was, I yelled who I was and they questioned me some…”  
  
John wipes his face, smiling.  
  
“And you didn’t even have to pay with your leg. God must love you.”  
“Hey, I’ve been with _two_ hostile ships filled with unwashed brutes for weeks now, listening to snores and farts and don’t even get me started on the food! God clearly hates my guts.”  
“Does that mean you’re reconciling with my glaced pig?”  
“Hell no. I was dreaming of Randall’s spitfilled porridge the entire time.”  
  
It’s his matelot and not a ghost. The insults tells that even more than the soothing strokes over John’s hair.  
  
“You haven’t brushed it properly. And I assume you’ve not cared enough for the stump either? Or slept enough? And you look _thin._ How long have you been ashore?”  
“Long.”  
  
Muldoon snorts.  
  
“I should spank your ass. One fine quartermaster you are, not even capable of stuffing enough food in that smart mouth. You got yourself a new lover?”  
“What? No!”  
  
It’s too late when John realises how offended and honestly appalled he sounds and he looks up, seeing Muldoon’s shit eating grin in the hollow face. The brown eyes are weary but still clear and John doesn’t dare to think about what’s shining through them. He just shakes his head, feeling more tears he can’t stop. Tears that Muldoon’s thumb is now wiping away, still grinning.  
  
“Does that mean we’re married?”  
  
**Mary Read**  
There aren’t many things that can get Billy Bones away from Captain Low’s side, but the missing gunner’s return is one of them and Mary still isn’t used to how freely these pirates show affection. She watches the giant first mate lock the smaller gunner in a bear hug, both of them in tears and it’s all so different from the crew on the ship she sailed with. There’s real friendship here, a sense of family and not just the bond of mutual interest in surviving a dangerous trip across the sea.  
  
Mary starts to see how these men not only choose who they are, but who they call family and perhaps the most strange thing about it, is how natural it all seems to them. Mr. Silver is standing a bit to the side now, letting Muldoon reunite with Billy, but his eyes never leave the man. Captain Low abstains from any angry or smart comments too, pretending to be asleep not to interrupt the moment, but Mary can see he’s awake. None of them are a part of this reunion and it’s comforting not being the only bystander.  
  
There are jokes about glaced pigs and seniority that are clearly private, or at least not possible for people outside the Walrus crew to grasp, and then Billy introduces the rescued gunner to Mary’s Captain, who peeks up from his blindfold and smiles. They’re clearly not known to each other and that’s a comfort, not being the only one meeting strangers. She’s about to step outside when Mr. Silver suddenly looks at her and grabs Muldoon’s hand.  
  
“Read, I’m sorry, I should’ve… Muldoon, this is Mr. Read, Captain Low’s uhm… friend and new to our crew since a few days. Mr. Read, this is Muldoon, our no longer lost gunner and my uhm… matelot.”  
  
He almost blushes and Mary has a hard time not laughing, especially when Muldoon rolls his eyes.  
  
“ _I’m_ his lost husband and _you’re_ clearly not a mister. Or a lady.”  
  
Mary shrugs, trying to find the confidence she doesn’t have.  
  
“I am what I need to be, Mr. Muldoon.”  
“Just Muldoon, the hell, John, you’re recruiting nobles now? We all need to get tit curtains and learn how to dance?”  
  
Captain Low lets out a laughter.  
  
_“Tit curtains?”_  
“Cravats, love. Also known as tit curtains to the less civilized men of Nassau.”  
  
Billy Bones sounds amused but then he glances at the Captain and makes a nod at Silver and Muldoon.  
  
“I bet you two want a moment to yourselves, boys. Read, why don’t you grab some coins from Silver’s purse and get some time off?”  
“Hey, you’re giving away my money now?”  
  
The quartermaster frowns but Billy just looks straight at him.  
  
“She’s been working for you all morning, Silver. You planned on paying her by letting her watch you ride Muldoon, or what?”  
“Go fuck yourself, Billy.”  
  
Silver’s response isn’t heated, he’s not angry and he simply hands over his entire purse to Mary.  
  
“Sir, this is…”  
“A fair pay. Spend it on whatever you want.”  
  
The weight in her hand is more than she would earn in months on the merchant ship and judging by Silver’s snicker, her surprise is showing.  
  
“Your share from the booty, Read. And some extra from me and Billy as well, for your help. It’s been much appreciated. Now, unless you’re terribly interested in watching Billy motherhenning your Captain or me fucking my gunner, I suggest you take off and spend that purse as unwisely as a man would.”  
  
Mary quickly puts her hat on and hurries out. She’s not an innocent girl, far from it, but she doesn’t want to know what the four men, three of them with ailments, will do in the house.  
  
**John Silver**  
For once, he’s the one helping, not the other way around. The supplies he brought for Billy to tend to Ned, comes well in hand now and there’s plenty. Muldoon is laying on his back on the bed where John has cried himself to sleep for too many nights. The door, of course, is closed. The gunner’s now naked frame is filled with bruises, some healed cuts and way too much dirt, but there are no serious wounds, no huge bloodloss and all his limbs are intact. The soft cock nestled in dark hair isn’t John’s focus now, he’s still trying to fathom that Muldoon is back in one piece.  
  
“Show me…”  
“What?”  
“Your leg.”  
  
Denying Muldoon anything now isn’t easy and while the gunner shouldn’t think about any other wounds than his own, John indulges him and pulls the leg of his breeches up, placing it within clear sight and reach for his matelot who glares at it like it’s a personal insult.  
  
“You know, I really _should_ spank you, quartermaster. Or raise a fucking vote to remove you from your position. You’re clearly too bloody stupid for it. Why didn’t you let Billy help you?”  
  
Because the thought of someone else than Muldoon touching it, made him feel sick, that’s why, but the silver tongue has no way of telling the gunner that and maybe the man knows, because he doesn’t press John for an answer.  
  
John smiles at him.  
  
“Maybe we are fucking married. At least you’re yelling at me like a pissed off wife.”  
“You see _this_ as pissed off wife? You’ve clearly never met my mother… Or had a wife.”  
  
He’s missed this. God, how he’s missed this perpetually annoyed voice, the bright smile and the stream of insults. He should’ve tended better to the stump, but it seemed unnecessary. He wont tell Muldoon that though. Not now.  
  
He slides his hands across the chest, the ribs and the slender hips, leaning down to just drop shallow kisses in a way he usually doesn’t and he’s prepared for some insult or teasing, but the gunner just strokes his hair, breathing softly.  
  
John doesn’t intend on having sex, or even touching in a seductive manner. He just needs to touch, to feel for himself that Muldoon is back and whole. Well, whole enough to be alive and breathing. He has to make sure of every possible injury and so he touches everywhere he can, not hard or fast, just a smooth palming of every inch of the man’s body. The slightly thinned out chest, the dimple between the collarbones, the right ear where the gunner’s hearing is a little poor and the neck where John used to breathe hard and fast into whenever they fucked.  
  
Muldoon lets him, most likely for John’s sake. Maybe for all the times when John has been forced to allow Muldoon close in order to be tended to. Or simply because he likes it. No one has really liked John’s touch before like this. Whores and mollies don’t count.  
  
The gunner smiles wearily at him.  
  
“You do know you can’t fuck me right now, John? ‘Cause I know that look…”  
  
Silver snorts.  
  
“What if I did get myself a lover while you were gone, huh?”  
  
His matelot doesn’t laugh now, nor does he glare. He just tucks one of John’s curls back behind the ear.  
  
“Yeah, what if you did? Matelotages aren’t real marriages…”  
“That’s true.”  
“We can fuck others if we want to.”  
“Of course we can…”  
  
John pulls his shirt off, drops the belt on the floor along with his boots, the one of iron and the one of leather.  
  
“It will take some time, John.”  
“I can wait.”  
  
There goes the breeches as well, the sock and then he lifts the sheet and curls himself around Muldoon’s naked frame. He leans into the ear.  
  
“We’re free to be with women… and men…”  
“Plenty of them…”  
  
He feels the swell of Muldoon’s ass as the man presses back towards him. John puts an arm under his neck, another over the chest and arms. He’s hardening, it’s the natural reaction to the feeling of his lover like this and Muldoon brushes back a little.  
  
They can’t fuck, but they can be close, as close as their respective injuries and weaknesses allow them and so John slips his cock between Muldoon’s buttocks, not to go any deeper, but just being nestled there. Then he slips his bad leg upwards, resting on top of Muldoon’s and the gunner strokes it with his course hand.  
  
And John pulls him closer, just cradling his lover while making a silent promise to take better care of his wounds and weaknesses. All of them.


End file.
